I officially have a new favorite city.
I know I'm giving up my roots in Philly, the splendor of New York, and the prestige of Washington DC, as well as many other cities and their incredible aspects, and I feel terrible about that. But every city I have been to in the United States has absolutely nothing on the grandeur, beauty, and all around good time that is Madrid.
Getting off the plane yesterday was interesting because Barajas is approximately 12 kilometers outside of the city. I looked out the small sliver of window my far seat mate was kind enough to crack and remember thinking, "This is Barajas? I thought it would be so much cooler." Long story short, Barajas really didn't look what I envisioned it to be, and I sort of clumped Madrid in that idea too since all I saw surrounding the airport was fields and farm land. But when I was in the cab and approaching the city, I realized I was completely wrong. Madrid is absolutely gorgeous and I am kind of a bit jealous of the forty or so Fulbrighters who get to stay here. (Of course, I will probably feel that jealousy until I move to Valencia, which doesn't get below fifty degrees and has miles upon miles of beach on the Mediterranean.)
Entering Spain itself was quite interesting too. At Barajas, you go through customs before you can claim your baggage. I figured that when working at the airport people would be bilingual, but the customs official that I was assigned did not. He took my passport and my "Entering the European Union for Non-Residents" slip I had to fill out on the airplane (minus an address of my residence) and didn't say anything. Then he looked at my visa and said "Oh, estudiante! What do you, uh, study?" So, because he asked in English, I figured I'd answer in English. Big mistake. "Oh, umm, no comprendo." Okay, no problem. Spanish conversation numero uno: Success. Win.
The baggage claim had its own little adventures into the world of speaking Spanish full-time too. First of all, there are upwards of 15 baggage claims and they are all obnoxiously large. I was standing next to some guy who couldn't have been much older than me and he kept glancing at me. He didn't say anything the whole time we were standing there, but as soon as I grabbed my bags he starts talking Spanish at a completely rapid pace, and quite animatedly, I might add. I'm shocked that in my utterly jet-lagged, sleep-deprived state I understood any of what he was saying, but he was telling me that, like me, he is a teacher but he just got back from studying in Chicago and telling me about his life. Then the conversation ended by him telling me my Spanish was good so I will be fine. Spanish conversation numero dos: Success. Bigger Win.
Then came the dreaded cab ride from Barajas to the Colegio Mayor Mendel. I was really nervous for this one. Just imagine: Me, in a city I don't know at all, in a country I have never been to before, and a cabbie who speaks only "un pocquito" English. Luckily, we got through it together and he made good conversation and showed me around Madrid. He didn't take advantage of me, the meter in the cab was on, he got me where I needed to go and safely. It was a little scary because at first it didn't seem like he knew where the street the Colegio is on actually was, but luckily I knew a metro station that is nearby and gave him a map from the metro station to the street. He then seemed to know exactly where it was. Crazy cab ride and conversation numero tres: Success. Biggest win of my life.
Everyone here is really nice as well, both the citizens and Fulbrighters. We spent the rest of the day walking around Madrid and getting used to Spanish time and customs. We were really hit over the head with a cultural 2x4 when we realized that the Spanish are pretty serious about their siesta time, especially on Saturday, hence why no cell phone stores were open from 2:00-7:00 pm. Also, we learned that "morning" here is considered 8:00 am to 2:00 pm, "afternoon" is 2:00-9:00, and "night" is dinner/when it gets dark until when it gets light. Dinner will also be served promptly at 9:00 every night in a cafeteria where shorts and flip flops are unacceptable. You are, however, allowed to wear and color pants you want, and the brighter and more obnoxious the color, the more points you get. The food is good so far, but I'm a little confused as to why the serve fries as an option at every meal at the Colegio. (I have not eaten them yet though.)
Exploring the city was a great time. We spent time in La Latina, Gran Via, and later today will go to Atocha and the Palacio Real/Prado district for a bit. Hopefully we'll get around to Santiago Bernabeu, where Real Madrid plays, too. Gran Via was gorgeous. It's like an Old City meets 5th Avenue type of neighborhood and you absolutely cannot beat outdoor, open air plazas with completely outdoor restaurants all over. We sat outside at two restaurants with the best Sangria I have ever had just watching the locals celebrate the last weekend of summer. (Granted, in Spain they seem to look for an excuse to celebrate anything.) Also, the local theatre in the Plaza del Sol is playing a comedic rendition of "Julieta y Romeo." Gran Via is also home to the nicest McDonalds I have seen in my life: three floors, IKEA furniture, marble stair cases, real dishes, flat screens, and, sorry for this one USA, ridiculously clean.
If day one of the adventure is any indication of what Spain is truly like, it will be a great year. But even so, I suppose that either way what's coming will come and we'll meet it when it does.
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